Giving And Receiving
by mandaree1
Summary: Vanellope has never understood gift-giving. Ralph has never had anyone to give a gift too. The two meet each other in the middle.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Wreck-It Ralph**

**Title: Giving And Receiving**

**Summary: Vanellope has never understood gift-giving. Ralph has never had anyone to give a gift too. The two meet each other in the middle.**

**...**

Let it be said that Vanellope Von Schweetz _did_ understand the concept of gift-giving. She just didn't understand the purpose.

She personally saw it as another form of trade. You gave someone something, they gave you something in return. Sometimes one or both sides were unhappy with what they received or missed what they gave away, but it was always laughed off as a 'lesson of life.'

The other racers had given her 'gifts' after she'd become president, but Vanellope wasn't stupid. They were peace offerings, things given to her to keep her happy and make sure she didn't go on with her false decree of death-upon-bullies, which she found rather stupid. Vanellope had long forgiven (but not forgotten- some things were impossible to forget) them of their past lack of sportsmanship. King Candy had twisted their minds and set them on her with the purpose of destroying her self-confidence. (Ha, stupid dork. He didn't get a bit of her self-confidence- just a chunk of her self-esteem), and she knew that they honestly thought they were in the right. The way they went about things was rather deplorable, but not their reasons.

She knew gift-giving was a sign of friendship. Friendship was another term she was some trouble fully understanding.

She hadn't given Ralph her hand-made medal out of friendship. She was giving him a token to remember her by. The only reason they'd been hanging out in the first place was for her to win back his stupid medal, and she knew the moment she did that he'd grab it and go. Sayonara. Aue revoire. Some other goodbye in a foreign language.

And that was fine. She'd just hoped that the medal (which was a medal because he'd seemed so stinkin' obsessed with the stupid things) might prompt him to descend from up high to see her from time to time. Y'know, take the short walk from his penthouse to deliver her the odd slice of leftover pie. She hadn't even expected him to visit after she became president.

And boy, was that a stupid expectation.

It was kind of fun, she had to admit. Having someone who saw past her glitching to the cool character she didn't doubt she was inside. Somone to pal around with and cause havoc. Everyone else in Sugar Rush always called her 'the gli- oh,I mean prince- I mean _President_ of Sugar Rush' (and sweet mother of all things cavity-creating was that getting old fast.) Hammertime and Sarge both had nicknames for her (Sickeningly sweet ones from Hammerbro, stereotypical and unsurprising one's from the lady in armor.) ("Honey-sweet" -Gag her- and "Squirt" and/or "Kid- Come'on honey-glow-girl, you can do better than that.)

Ralph was one of the few people who called her Vanellope. And, no, she wouldn't admit that she was still way to happy when people called her by her first name. What could she say? Years of being 'the glitch' can get to a girl and make her giddy of the stupidest of things. She blamed it on being a side-effect of insanity.

To sum up what would be a much longer and non-sensible rant on her part; Vanellope didn't get gifts. She gave them.

Once upon a time, when she was shifting through some trash cans for kart parts, she'd overheard someone telling someone else that gifts should only be given when you could expect something in return. The only gifts Vanellope had ever received were her winning personality and having just enough stable code left to keep a solid form (most of the time) and know that she had the code of a racer buzzing inside her. And that was plenty enough for her.

But now, it seemed she was going to get her third gift ever. And she had no clue what to do with it.

Ralph's cooking skills were better than one might expect. Don't get her wrong, he wasn't the next top chief, but considering anything she'd ever tried to cook in her life had either burst into flames or just plain exploded, Vanellope couldn't really complain. Give her a kart, she'll save the day. Give her a stove, and she'll be the one that needed saving.

Good or no, there was still something incredibly surprising at seeing a semi-burnt, multi-layered _masterpiece_ of a cake with frosting spelling out 'Happy Birthday Vanello-' (he ran out of room) across the top being shoved into her face. "Here."

Vanellope blinked at the blurry outline of the cake inches away from her nose before gently pushing it away and glancing up. "Alright, I'll bite. How'd you know?"

Ralph gave her a 'duh' look, and she resisted the urge to smack herself upside the head. "_Right_, it's painted on the si- Stupid question, never mind." She gave the sugar monstrosity (she didn't have much room to talk on _that_ point, either) another glance while pointing a finger. "Why doesn't it say 'Happy B-day Sugar Rush'?"

"Well, you know..." He scratched the back of his head awkwardly and avoided her gaze. "It'd make things feel less personal, I guess."

"It's a cake, Ralph, not a letter to the queen." Vanellope gently took the cake platter from his large hand, stumbling slightly (hey, it wasn't her fault she was such a lightweight!) before steadying herself.

Ralph made a cake. For her. For her birthday. Vanellope didn't even _celebrate_ her birthday.

Cue the slightly dropped jaw and Ralph nervously fiddling with his hands and shuffling his feet.

"What?"

Vanellope didn't answer. She finally got the urge to blink, and fulfilled the urge excessively.

"Um, nothing. Nothing at all."

"You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were speechless." He smirked.

Vanellope blinked one last time and shook her head clear of fuzz. "Heh, you wish." She stared at the cake a second longer. "Where's the knife? I call first slice."

Vanellope could get used to this 'giving-receiving' thing.

**No flames! Don't like don't read! Review!**


End file.
